The Tide, Part V

Remembering no more the
former times, and being
given to our separateness
we sang like tuning forks
according to the strange
cosmic reverberations of the
angel’s ancient cacophony;
we became throughout the
eras whatever amorphous
desires decided to attach
themselves to us—indeed
we were hosts to parasites,
truly legion, merciless in
their continual holocaust
year after year—we thought
we were flesh alone but on
the island we discovered we
had bone—an undefinable
substance subcellular,
some silver shimmering and
living bundle which was
created to be excised
agonisingly over centuries of
torment—the only
comparable thing was our
sudden estrangement from
each other, which unceasing
was the stoning of our
cowering forms forbearing
retribution; it was divine
discipline, though we ached
for the end of sadness—God,
sweet merciful Lord give us
rest from our unspeakable
afflictions, our crying out,
you only can correct our error.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can also donate some of your hard-earned dollars down below—that’s money to me, for free!


Gabriel Muoio


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